


Second Chances

by CanaryCry



Series: DickTiger Week 2018 [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Grayson (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Apologies, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Bat Family, Cassandra Cain is Black Bat, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, DickTigerWeek2018, Forgiveness, Helena Bertinelli is Huntress, M/M, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Second Chances, Sex, Stephanie Brown is Batgirl, Tiger is Patron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 18:27:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13793583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanaryCry/pseuds/CanaryCry
Summary: DickTiger Week Day 3: ApologyDick and Tiger had a one-night stand in Venice six months ago. Tiger never called. Dick swallowed his disappointment and moved on... until one day Tiger arrives in Gotham city to work with the batfamily.





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this was, as my old dance teacher would say, a shitfight. I've lost the ability to write sex scenes. Hence why I posted it a full day later than planned.
> 
> This is a bit AU: Dick never went to Spyral. Other important character positions are included in the tags. Basically, this is mashing some New 52, Rebirth and preboot canons together into my own Franken-canon (or Franken-canon's monster). Duke Thomas isn't here because I don't know anything about him, sorry.
> 
> There is some sex (hence the rating) but it's mostly contained to the first flashback scene and doesn't have a, uh, finish. Sorry not sorry.

Dick loved his family, even when they were threatening to stab each other. But sometimes even he needed a break; it stopped him from joining in on the stabbings. Patrolling with Huntress was always a breath of fresh air, even if he had to remind her not to murder anyone while working with the bats.

“This is why Gotham has a crime problem,” she complained every time. Dick—Nightwing at the moment—was used to it. She still switched her crossbow bolts for specially-designed concussion bolts. They'd met on their usual high-rise rooftop in the middle of the city tonight.

“Everywhere has a crime problem,” Nightwing replied. “Besides, you never know who can be rehabilitated until they are.”

Huntress scoffed, but didn't argue. “Did you run into those creepy robots yet?”

“The ones with six arms that blast super loud music so you can't even hear yourself think while they try to disembowel you? Unfortunately, yes. We took one back to the cave to analyse it, but it woke up and nearly stabbed Red Robin's eyes out.”

“I have a lead on who's making them,” said Huntress. “Got a Spyral contact coming in to help us track down the assembly line. Codenamed Patron, but you can ask what he prefers to be called when he gets here.”

“You clear this with the big guy?”

Huntress's eyes were hidden behind mask lenses, so she rolled her head so he knew she was rolling them, too. “Of course I did. His huffing when someone sneezes in this city without approval is irritating. You get to work with us.”

“Ugh, why me?”

“Your winning personality, obviously.”

“I'm serious.”

“You work with me more than most of your family. Come on. Keep up.” Huntress shot a grapnel line to the next building along. “That's tomorrow night. Tonight, we try to stop the civilians getting gored again.”

“Hey, at least you can kill robots.”

“I'm thrilled.” She soared away. Nightwing followed her.

They'd met by sort-of-accident a few months back when Batman was toying with the idea of putting someone undercover in Spyral. But then Huntress showed up with a whole bunch of Spyral intel one night and passed it to the first bat she saw, which happened to be Nightwing. She also punched him in the face when he tried to flirt with her.

Whatever had spooked Batman about the organisation had been resolved, apparently, and the batfam and Spyral had maintained cool, but polite, relations through Huntress ever since.

Nightwing and Huntress took down at least a dozen of these fucking six-armed horror-robots that night. Most of them were either white or black, with flashlight eyes and that painfully loud music. They all played different music. At least the house music robot had given Nightwing a good beat while he tore its stabby knife-arm off and tried to avoid a drill arm at the same time.

“Good workout,” Huntress said at the end of it all, pushing back her hood to release her gravity-defying curly hair. She peeled off the mask, revealing Helena underneath, rubbed the bridge of her nose and put it back on. “We'll meet at the usual rooftop tomorrow night. Let Batman know. He might want to come along.”

“Will do.”

* * *

Batman elected not to join Nightwing at the meeting, but he would be watching from a nearby rooftop through the camera set into Nightwing's mask.

Huntress was already there when he arrived, but Patron wasn't.

“He'll be here soon,” said Huntress. “I should probably warn you about him.”

“Should I be worried?”

“That depends on you. His sense of humour is... limited. He _probably_ won't shoot you if you make an ass of yourself, but he will judge you. Hard.”

“I have, like, a thousand younger siblings who all disapprove of my fashion choices ninety percent of the time. I'm used to being judged.”

Huntress smirked. “Let me know how you feel after meeting him.” Her earpiece beeped and she pressed her finger to it. “Yes, Patron. We're in position. Planning to be fashionably late?” She chuckled. “I'm just trying to prepare you for Nightwing. He's a real character.”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Nightwing said. Huntress flapped her hand at him.

“Okay, see you in a moment.” She ended the call. “He's in a bad mood.”

“Sounds like a common occurrence.”

“I used to be Matron of Spyral,” Huntress said. “It's a shit job. I also nearly got possessed by an evil dead scientist, which did not help. So I left. Patron has done a good job replacing me. Now I liaise with Gotham do-gooders, since a lot of our problems end up here.”

“Well, they do say shit rolls downhill. And we spend at least half the year at rock bottom.”

Huntress snorted. “That may be the rudest thing I have ever heard you say about Gotham.”

“Because you're usually the one insulting it. Most Gothamites get defensive when the non-locals judge us.”

“I've noticed.”

Huntress walked to the other side of the building while Nightwing took in the skyline. The city lights seemed super glittery tonight. Maybe there was less pollution than usual. That would be nice. Either that or there was a transparent gas about to kill everyone and Nightwing was actually super high right before dropping dead.

Wow. That was grim, even for a bat.

Huntress cleared her throat. Nightwing turned around.

“Nightwing, meet Patron.”

He looked to the man standing beside her and oh shit. He knew this guy. It had been six months since that hotel room in Venice, but he couldn't have forgotten Tiger if he'd tried. The muscular arms, broad chest, three stripes on his forehead, piercing green eyes. Time had not diminished his looks, but it had shifted Nightwing's predisposition towards him.

“The Tiger King of Kandahar,” he said wryly, fighting down the urge to punch him in the face. “Long time no see.”

Huntress very slowly her head towards Patron/Tiger. “Is there something I should know?” That was an authoritative voice Nightwing hadn't heard from her before, evidently harkening back to when she was Tiger's boss.

Tiger took a deep breath before speaking. “Hello, Dick.” He glanced towards Huntress. “We met in Venice.”

“When you pushed back your return to HQ by twenty-four hours?” Huntress raised an eyebrow. “Now it makes sense. Is this going to be a problem?”

“No,” Tiger said flatly, before Nightwing could get a word in.

“Ah, I see how it is,” he said, in the most cloyingly sweet voice he could manage with a smile to match.

A muscle twitched in Tiger's jaw. “Dick...”

“No real names in the field. It's Nightwing, Patron.” He dug out his grapnel launcher. “Shall we get to work?”

* * *

Even though Dick had sincerely hoped they could get to the bottom of the robot manufacturing in one night, they destroyed three separate factories and found intel for the locations of even more across the state. Tiger had dispatched agents to deal with the ones outside of Gotham, but they would have to handle the rest in the city on another night. Even with Batman and the rest of the family chipping in, it was just too much.

So Dick would have to brace himself to see Tiger for a second time at least, even though he'd rather blow him off and never lay eyes on him again.

After showering, Dick tried to get past Bruce at the batcomputer without starting a conversation. Bruce was normally too hyperfocused on his work to notice him passing by... but tonight was not his night.

“Are you going to tell me what exactly happened in Venice?” he said, still reading through whatever criminal file he was updating. Though phrased as a question, it was anything but.

Dick would rather step on a mouse trap than tell Bruce, but he didn't have any choice in the matter. So he leaned against a non-fragile part of the batcomputer, crossing his arms to make it clear he didn't want to fucking talk about this.

“Remember how you sent me to Venice to clean up all the smuggled Gotham drugs that had been sent there?”

Bruce nodded. Of course he did. He rarely forgot anything.

“Well, Patron—Tiger—had a mission of his own. Taking down some weapons smugglers. I don't know why you'd pick Venice of all places to smuggle weapons, but whatever. We were both visiting a club where our marks were meeting up. Turned out they were meeting each other. So we teamed up to take them down... and, uh, well. We had chemistry. Please tell me you can fill in the blanks because I really don't wanna say it aloud to you of all people.”

“Got it.” Bruce leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his cowl-flattened hair. “You seemed angry with him.”

“He only had a burner phone on him, so I gave him my number. He promised to call me. He didn't.”

Bruce frowned. “Do you need me to punch him?”

“No. He's the boss of a big spy agency with access to a lot of intel we don't. We need to stay friendly... ish.”

“We have managed without him until now.”

It was nice to see Bruce getting protective; Dick was an adult, sure, but sometimes he wanted to bury himself in Bruce's cape like he did as a child. “Thanks, but I'm good. He'll be gone soon.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “No promises.”

Dick couldn't even be mad that Bruce was considering going against his wishes. They both knew he would love to see Tiger get punched and likely wouldn't do it himself unless things got worse.

“Anything mission-related we need to talk about?” Dick asked.

“No, I'll take care of it. Come by the manor before heading out tomorrow night. You'll need help to take out all the factories in one night.”

“Will do.”

Dick headed straight up to bed, barely noticing Jason shoulder-checking him on the way up the cave stairs. He'd finally gotten over being angry that Tiger broke his promise to call him, when of course the man showed up in _his_ city... just as imposing and attractive as the day they'd met.

Why did assholes have to look so good? It wasn't fair.

* * *

**Six Months Ago**

Combat and attractive people were a dangerous combination. Urgent adrenaline-fuelled makeouts with a stranger-turned-temporary-teammate in a back alley kind of dangerous.

“You like this?” Tiger growled into his ear, pressing Dick against the wall with his body.

“God, yes.”

Hands sliding under clothes, breathless kisses, neck bites. They needed to get out of this alley and to a bedroom before they got too desperate. They ran, hands clasped together, dodging the flood of people by the canals and over the bridges and oh god why did this have to happen during Carnevale.

Tiger's apartment was closest. They crashed through the door, kissing messily and knocking teeth together, kicking the door shut. Then shoes off, shirts off, tripping over each other's feet, falling onto the bed.

Dick was very happily pinned under Tiger's weight as the man nibbled along his neck. He ran his palms down the man's muscular back. “This how you treat all your teammates?”

“No.” Tiger lowered his head to kiss Dick's collarbone. “Only the attractive ones.”

“You normally work with ugly people?”

Tiger hid his face against Dick's chest with a groan. “I regret bringing you here.”

“You sure about that?”

“No.” Tiger unzipped Dick's pants and slid down the bed, dragging down the waistband as he went.. “Now... I have better things to do than talk to you.”

“Oh, by all means. I can talk enough for the both of—oh God.”

Dick normally took a little longer to get to the cock-sucking stage, but here he was, with a man who fancied himself the Tiger King of Kandahar going down on him mere hours after they met.

Tiger maintained eye contact the whole time he swallowed down Dick's length. It was... unnerving but also kinda hot and Dick definitely had issues and holy shit this guy had no fucking gag reflex. Dick's hands flew to Tiger's hair, curling around a sizeable fistful each. Tiger moaned around his cock and sent vibrations through Dick's entire body.

This was... fuck. He couldn't think. He was going to finish way too soon at this rate. Dick pulled Tiger up by the hair.

“You're way too good at that,” he said breathlessly, gasping as Tiger kissed a spot beneath his jaw. “And that.”

Tiger chuckled, a deep sound that went straight to Dick's cock. Like everything else right now. He'd probably find a slice of bread arousing at this point. Dick kicked his pants off the rest of the way and fought with Tiger's belt buckle until it gave. He needed both of them naked yesterday.

“Do you prefer to give or receive?” Tiger asked, sliding his pants away.

“I'm honestly just happy to be here.” Dick squeezed his thighs around Tiger's waist, encouraging him to rub their cocks together. “You pick.”

Tiger's hands slid down his arms, across his back and down to his ass. “Any objections?”

“Nope. Thrilled, actually.” Maybe he had wanted Tiger to fuck him after all. Funny how things worked out nicely that way sometimes.

Tiger kissed the insides of his thighs as he slid a slicked finger inside Dick.

* * *

**Now**

Dick couldn't let himself get too nostalgic, not when he had to see the guy again. It wasn't like he was anything special—not matter how good he was in bed. It certainly wasn't the first time a guy had promised to call Dick after a great night and not deliver. It was easy enough to mutter a few swear words and move on, but Dick typically didn't have to see those people again. Not this time, though.

And maybe Dick had really liked him. It was more than sexual chemistry; they'd just _clicked_. They were not alike, but they did complement each other. Dick loved a reactive audience to his jokes, and Tiger was more than willing to deliver exaggerated frustration that neither of them truly believed was real.

And maybe, just maybe, given they understood each other's professions, Dick had hoped there was a future there. Only for Tiger to just... ghost him.

Okay, he was still hurt.

Dick headed down to the batcave the following evening, not at all looking forward to the night to come. Everyone was there. Even Barbara, who was in the process of shoving the computer chair away so she could commandeer the batcomputer from her wheelchair. Bruce grudgingly moved it the rest of the way for her.

“This is not permanent,” he grumbled.

Barbara cracked her knuckles. “Relax. I'm only doing this for a good cause. Hi, Dick. I heard about your interesting meeting last night.”

Dick had a bad feeling about this. Not just because Barbara seemed to be implying she knew, but also because the rest of the family had clumped around her with their own versions of the same knowing look.

“And what exactly did you hear, and who the hell told you?”

“My fault,” Jason said, without a hint of remorse. “I overheard you talking to the old man, thought Oracle might want to know. Then Steph overheard me telling her and told everyone else.”

“Sorry not sorry,” said Steph. “The fam wants to protect your virtue.”

Dick had draw upon his immense willpower not to facepalm. “That ship has sailed, Steph. Years ago.”

Damian made a disgusted noise.

“Honour, then,” said Tim. “We want to protect your honour.”

“I really don't need to protecting anything of mine.”

“I don't know,” said Jason. “You seemed pretty upset last night.”

“You saw me for all of five seconds.”

“And you're an emotional trainwreck.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Barbara opened a file. “Bertinelli's Spyral file included some interesting information about this guy. I'm not sure she intended to include personnel files, but we have them anyway.”

“No. We're not doing this.”

Bruce clapped a hand on his shoulder. “It's already begun, Dick. I couldn't stop it even if I wanted to.”

“You're in on it,” Dick complained.

“Obviously.”

“I get to punch him first,” said Damian. That was probably the worst part, that _Damian_ knew Dick had slept with someone and then been hung out to dry. Damian still thought any kind of romantic thing was gross. He would complain about it during movies. Loudly. They couldn't take him to the cinema without pissing off other moviegoers.

“No,” said Cass. “Me first.”

“Everyone who wants to punch Patron first, pick a number between 1 and 100,” said Barbara.

“Or perhaps we could draw straws,” Alfred suggesting, coming out of absolutely frigging nowhere. Seriously, where the hell had he come from?

“Nobody is punching anyone,” Dick interrupted.

“We'll see about that,” Bruce said, pulling his cowl on. “Let's go.”

Huntress and Tiger were already standing on the roof when the whole batfamily arrived, minus Barbara and Alfred who were linked to them through their comms.

“I see you brought the whole family,” Huntress said, her mouth quirked with amusement.

“Just our fighters,” Nightwing replied. “Not that the others can't fight, too.”

“Nice save, Nightwing,” Oracle said through the comm.

“There are six factories remaining in Gotham city according to our intelligence,” Tiger said, hands clasped behind his back. He wasn't making eye contact with anyone. Nightwing almost felt bad for him. Almost.

“We'd best split up into three groups and take two factories each,” Huntress added.

“Hood and I can work with Patron,” Batman said. Red Hood cracked his knuckles loudly.

To his credit, Tiger didn't protest. “In that case, we best take two of the larger factories.”

“I'm with Nightwing,” Robin said quickly.

“I'll come with the two of you,” said Huntress.

Batgirl, who was Stephanie, hooked her arms through Black Bat and Red Robin's. “Perfect. I get the computer nerd and our best hand-to-hand fighter. Sucks to be the rest of you.”

Tiger caught Nightwing's eye, and he thought there was maybe a hint of fear. And also his green eyes were just as striking as they had been in that Venetian club. And in the weak winter sunlight the following morning.

Damn it. He'd really missed him. But now wasn't the time. At least Batman and Red Hood had saved him from working with the guy for a bit... even if they clearly had their own agenda. Seeing the two of them actually united on something was utterly terrifying, but also gratifying they were doing it for his benefit.

Nightwing didn't know what they were planning. He just hoped they didn't mess with Tiger too badly before he had a chance to question the man himself once the mission was over.

Tiger kept watching him as everyone worked out logistics, and he found his anger cooling a little. Maybe there was a reason Tiger hadn't called. Nightwing owed him the chance to explain himself, at least.

* * *

**Six Months Ago**

Tiger rose early the day after he and Dick had slept together. He prayed and returned to bed, lying on his side so he could watch Dick sleep. Dick was stretched out on his back, sheets tangled around his legs, his nose pressed against one of his arms that curved around to hide his hand beneath the pillow. A strip of sunlight fell across his cheek. He was a beautiful man, one of those rare people whose appearance matched their personality.

He was also Nightwing, but he didn't know Tiger knew that. Tiger had been... light on the details of his profession last night. It had seemed prudent at the time.

Tiger really wanted to see him again, but he was not sure if that was possible. Gotham city attracted problems, and Spyral (sometimes) fixed problems. Maybe they would cross paths again. Or Tiger could find an excuse. He had been a good agent for a number of years now. Calling Helena last night to delay his return to base by twenty-four hours was a rare lapse.

Dick stirred, sighing, and then opened his eyes a crack. “Oh. Hey.”

“Did I disturb you?”

“Mmph.” Dick pawed at his eyes, arching his back in a stretch. “Don't think so? Nghhh. How early is it?”

“The sun has barely risen.”

“Gahhhhh.” Dick rolled over and shoved his face in the pillow. The covers slid down his waist, revealing his shapely ass and a few dim finger-shaped bruises Tiger must have given him last night.

Tiger gave into the temptation to stroke his hair. “Go back to sleep.”

“I might need help,” Dick replied, his voice still lazy from sleep.

“Oh?”

“Spooning makes me sleepy.”

“I suppose I can manage that.” Tiger slotted himself behind Dick, pulling the covers back up to trap in the heat. This was an older building, so its heating system was imperfect. It was totally reasonable to conserve body heat this way.

Dick laughed softly into the pillow. The sound was too endearing to ignore. Tiger kissed his shoulder. Dick shifted a little, ass rubbing against Tiger's cock, and craned his head to catch Tiger's lips with his own.

“This is nice,” Dick whispered. “We should do it more often.”

“I will have to leave for work in a few hours,” Tiger said.

“You ever swing by Gotham?”

“I could find an excuse.”

“Where's your phone? I'll give you my number.”

“I do not have one at the moment.”

“Worried about getting tracked?”

“Yes.”

Dick sat up, and Tiger buried the disappointment at the loss of contact. “Okay, hang on. I'll give you the number to my super-personal cell. No one gets it by accident so I won't freak out when I see an unfamiliar caller.”

Tiger found him a pen and paper, and Dick scribbled down his cell phone number. He tucked it into one of his vest pouches; it should survive the trip back to base.

“You'll definitely call?” Dick asked, sitting back on the bed. He was still naked. They both were. Maybe it was the nakedness, but he seemed vulnerable... like Tiger could break him without effort.

“I will,” Tiger promised, and found he really wanted to. He didn't know how relationships worked, but something about Dick made him want to try.

Dick smiled up at him, and it was brighter than the sun.

* * *

**Now**

Tiger knew why Batman and the Red Hood wanted to work with him. Dick—Nightwing—had told them what had happened. It made for a tense few hours as they fought through waves of six-armed music-blasting robots to destroy the factories, but Tiger was a professional.

Fortunately, it did not matter if he hit the robots harder than usual to give his nerves an outlet. They were not alive _or_ sentient. Therefore, Batman's rules did not apply to them.

Smashing up all the manufacturing equipment was also cathartic, but over too quickly. Soon, he was stuck on a rooftop facing two of Gotham city's most physically imposing vigilantes... and they were both angry with him.

“We found the guy who made the stab-bots,” Nightwing said through the communicator. “The police are on their way. Meet you back at rendezvous in ten, maybe?”

“Acknowledged, Nightwing,” said Batman.

“On our way there already,” said Batgirl. “Anyone want donuts?”

“Yes, please,” said Nightwing. “I need to eat my feelings.”

“Pathetic,” Robin complained. “I will have two cinnamon.”

The rest of the bats gave their donut orders, Huntress among them. She had only been here a few months, but it seemed they had accepted her as one of their own.

“Get me a jelly or five,” said the Red Hood. “Want anything, Patron? Could be your last meal.”

“No, thank you,” Tiger said. He almost kept his voice steady.

“Your loss.” The Red Hood crossed his arms. “So... you and Nightwing know each other.”

“In a manner of speaking.”

Batman also crossed his arms, staying silent. The two of them looked like overdressed security guards. Or mob enforcers.

“It's a shame you turned out to be a huge asshole,” said Red Hood. “You're actually pretty okay-looking. Nightwing has this problem picking out men: hot, but just generally shit people.”

“You are going to apologise,” Batman said, in a tone of voice better suited to an interrogation room.

“That was my intention,” Tiger replied, possibly against his better judgement.

“Well, isn't that just dandy.” Red Hood crossed over to him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. “We'll be watching. Luckily for you, Nightwing doesn't want us to punch you... but we will make an exception if he isn't satisfied with your apology. I hope you've got a damn good explanation.”

Tiger wasn't sure his explanation was good, exactly, but he did have one. He did not feel entirely comfortable telling Nightwing's angry younger brother, however, so he just nodded instead.

“Let me make something clear,” said Batman. “We have our own intelligence networks. We can make do without yours. There is nothing you provide that we cannot find ourselves. You are not indispensible.” The corner of his mouth lifted up, and seeing Batman smile was horrifying. “Behave.”

Red Hood let Tiger go. “We better get back to rendezvous. I like my jelly donuts hot.”

* * *

Nightwing had already eaten three donuts by the time Batman and Red Hood arrived with Tiger. Red Hood and Batman put a hand on Tiger each of Tiger's shoulders and leant down to whisper something to him. Robin actually snarled, until Nightwing threw out his arm to stop him charging forward.

“Chill, guardian of my honour.”

“He's just a lightning rod for how we all feel about this guy,” said Batgirl, shoving three donut holes into her mouth. How was that physically possible?

“I still want to punch him,” said Black Bat.

“Nobody is punching him,” Nightwing protested.

“That depends on him,” said Red Robin.

“I could systematically ruin his life instead,” Oracle offered through the comm.

“Do you even have enough information to do that?” Nightwing asked.

“Wouldn't you like to know?”

Huntress just shook her head at all of them. “I've known Tiger for a long time. He can be a jerk, but I've never known him to be malicious for no reason.”

“I plan to give him one more chance,” said Nightwing. “One. If nothing else, I'm curious why he never called. I can always go back to hating him if it's a shit reason.”

“Then can I punch him?” asked Black Bat.

“Please don't. If he's really terrible, I can punch him myself.”

She snickered.

“Hey, what's that supposed to mean?”

“I think she's implying you punch like a wet noodle,” said Batgirl. Black Bat nodded.

“Respect your elders,” said Nightwing.

“When have we ever respected you?” said Robin.

“I did,” Red Robin replied. “Once. Until I found out how much of a dork he is.”

“It really terrifies me when you two agree on things,” Nightwing said. “Oh, look! They're coming over. So we can stop disrespecting me now.”

“For now,” said Black Bat.

“This is embarrassing,” Huntress said.

“Where's my jelly?” Red Hood demanded. Red Robin threw a box at him.

Batman passed Nightwing on the way to the other donut boxes, pausing to squeeze his shoulder. “Tiger would like a word.”

“By choice?” Nightwing replied, but Batman had already walked off. So he approached Tiger, who was doing a pretty decent job of looking like he wasn't completely terrified of everyone around him. “So, Tiger. You wanted to talk?”

Tiger took in a deep breath, making a tiny face at Huntress who was seconds away from openly laughing at him. “Yes. Privately, if possible.”

“I can make that happen.” Nightwing waved goodbye to the others. “Go on ahead. I'll meet you back at the cave. _No eavesdropping_. Yes, Oracle, that includes you. I know you can hear me.”

“Spoilsport,” she replied.

Black Bat pointed at her eyes and then at Tiger, who nodded solemnly. Nightwing shepherded him out of there before anyone else could make threats.

“You're not scared of heights, are you?” Nightwing asked.

“That would impractical in my line of work.”

“Good, because we're headed to the top of the Wayne Enterprises building. About as private as you're gonna get outdoors in this city.”

They travelled there separately, which was probably for the best. Awkward silences weren't going to help matters. Nightwing parked his motorcycle in the secret garage beneath the building and took a hidden elevator up to the roof. Hence, he was there first and had enough to lean dramatically against the overlarge heating unit that actually hid the elevator doors.

Tiger a grapnel line slapped into place and, a few moments later, Tiger landed on the roof. “Did you pick the highest building on purpose?”

Dick pulled off his mask and shoved it in a pouch on his glove, not trusting his family not to use the camera in it. “What would you do if I said yes?”

Tiger rolled his eyes.

“I didn't,” Dick said. “I know this building's layout like the back of my hand. Better, probably, given how often I'm wearing these gloves. Short of taking you to a safehouse and pissing off the big guy, this is the safest place in the city for a private conversation.”

“Very well.” Tiger crossed his arms, failing to conceal a shiver. The wind picked up the edge of his lungee and he grabbed it.

“Come over here. Less windy.”

Tiger took a few steps closer, enough that the various air conditioners and weapons caches cut down the wind. “I wanted to call you.”

“And I'm sure you have a riveting explanation,” Dick replied, not even bothering to mask the bitterness. Sometimes you just clicked with someone, and expected there to be a future. Finding out that feeling hadn't seemed to be mutual was a real blow.

Tiger grimaced, staring up at the sky. “I... lost your number.”

Dick managed not to laugh. “And how exactly did you manage that?”

“It all seemed so clear when we were together,” Tiger said, crossing his arms against the cold. “I doubted myself once I returned to base. What exactly would you see in me? Was I even capable of maintaining a long-term, long- _distance_ relationship? I have made a few relationship attempts in the past and they all ended badly.”

“I know the feeling,” Dick replied. This still didn't explain why Tiger had lost his number, but he could be patient. For a while.

“Once I decided to try, a week had passed. And...” He scratched the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “I had washed the vest I put your number in. The paper... disintegrated.”

Dick had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. “Wow. So you do have flaws.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” Dick schooled his expression into something a little more... aloof. Or at least fucking calm. “What stopped you from using all your spy magic to just find me again?”

“I have known your identity this whole time,” Tiger admitted. “I... thought it would be in poor taste to use my resources to find personal information.”

“Information I already gave to you.”

“Can we simply agree I have poor judgement and move on?”

“Oh, agreed.”

Tiger took a half-step forward. “Are you still angry?”

“No. You're a hopeless dork and it wouldn't be fair.”

“Should I be insulted?”

“Probably,” Dick replied, flashing him a grin. “If you knew I'd be angry, why'd you come?”

Tiger's voice softened, almost too quiet to hear over the wind. “I wanted to see you.”

“You could've come any time, you know. Sooner would've been nice.”

“I was busy.”

“Helena did mention almost getting possessed by an evil dead scientist. That part of it?”

“Unfortunately.” Tiger joined him at the fake air conditioning unit, leaning beside him. “The asshole director before Helena tried to have us both killed _while I was praying_. So we killed him. Then Helena took the job and there was a messy transitional period. Then she nearly died and threw the job at me. I have spent the last few months trying to keep the organisation in one piece.”

“Then Helena called you about weird six-armed robots and you found an excuse to get away.”

“Yes. She expected me to send another agent, or simply pass on my information... but. Well. I told you. I wanted to see you. To apologise, even if you would not... ugh.”

“What, Tiger?” Standing this close, Dick was having all sorts of trouble keeping memories of their night in Venice at bay. It had been one of the best nights he'd had in a long time, and not just because he liked sex. He did, sure. Sex was great. But it was possibly the first time in years that he'd given himself a moment to _breathe_.

It was also the first time he'd spent more than a few days away from Damian without having a panic attack. It used to feel like if he took his eyes off him for a moment, Damian would go back to being dead. Getting to Venice at all without breaking down had been a fucking achievement, and spending the night with Tiger had just felt _right_.

Tiger reached out, so slow that Dick had time to decide he didn't want to stop him, and ran the backs of his fingers along Dick's cheek. “Even if you would not give me a second chance.”

Dick had to stop himself from answering right away. He needed to establish rules, boundaries. Even if his entire family wouldn't kick his ass for giving in too easily, he had to do this from himself.

“I'm willing to give it to you,” Dick said, “but not without conditions.”

“Name them,” Tiger answered immediately.

“First: with the exception of things we have to keep classified, no lying to each other,” Dick started. “Second: when we're apart, we call each other at least once a week whenever possible. Third: if one of us knows we'll be out of contact for longer than that, we say so. Fourth: whenever you're in Gotham, you visit me even if it's just for a few minutes.”

“Those are reasonable,” Tiger replied.

“I might think of more later, or the family might.”

“I am just happy you are speaking to me. Will your family still want to fight me?”

“Probably. We fight each other almost as much as we fight crime, so you're not getting a free pass. But maybe I can stop them from actively trying to kill you.”

Tiger chuckled. “That will do.”

“You'll just have to win them over. So... good luck.”

“I will need it,” he said darkly. “May I kiss you?”

“Please do.”

Tiger slid his arms around Dick's waist... and fucking devoured him. Dick loved that. It probably said something about his weird upbringing, but he was too into it to care. Using Tiger's shoulders as leverage, he leapt up and wrapped his legs around Tiger's waist.

Tiger shoved him against the wall, hands falling to his ass. “Your uniform is obscene,” he growled.

“Glad you like it,” Dick said, but quickly lost the ability to speak when Tiger started nibbling on his neck.

“Do you _need_ to return to the cave tonight?” Tiger murmured against his skin.

Dick shook his head. Tiger let him down, and gave him a second to get his bearings.

“I have an apartment nearby,” Tiger said.

“Okay.” Dick breathed. “Cool.” Then he got the family on the line. “You can all relax. We're good.”

“So I don't get to punch him?” said Jason.

“No, you do not. Oh, and I'm not coming back to the cave tonight.”

Batman started, “Nighting—”

“See you tomorrow okay bye.” Dick shut the link down and switched it to a super-privacy mode he'd designed a few years back when he just wanted a _break_. “Okay, we're good. For now. But I have trackers in my uniform so they'll know where we're going.”

“Oh, wonderful.”

“It'll be fine.” Dick took his hand. “Anyone wearing a batfam communicator will get a loud screeching noise in their earpiece if they get too close. And I'll get a warning.” He pulled out his grapnel gun. “Now, I believe we had unfinished business...”

Tiger pulled him in close, kissed him again and then shoved him against the wall. “We can start here.” He sank to his knees. “Show me how to open your uniform.”

Dick turned off the security measures and quietly thanked his past self for wearing the shirt-and-pants version of his uniform tonight. “Now, how can I say no to _that_?”


End file.
